Come On Mello
by postsixteenidealisticphase
Summary: There was something rather tragic about two brilliant boys growing up to be martyrs in a battle against a self proclaimed God. (Rated M for minor adult themes)


**A/N: This is the messiest oneshot I've ever written, but I can't even deal with my emotions about these two. Please ignore any mistakes I may have made about the actual Death Note arc.**

****Mello pressed the end call button with a weak finger and placed the phone on the table. His volumeless hair framed his face as his neck hung low, so low he thought his head would fall off.

It was around three AM, Saturday. It was the last phone call with Lidner, to draw the lines of the plan to her for the last time. It was rather easy, he was going to kidnap Kiyomi Takada, the most beautiful and controversial face on the television lately - Kira's spokeswoman. Due to what Lidner said, Near thought she was the current second Kira, instead of Misa Amane. Mello wasn't surprised. From the information he had in his hands, he had figured that out as well. But the fluffy headed bastard had to patronize him, with his ass safe at SPK with his servants around him, as if he was the one going to risk his fucking life. Even thinking about him burnt the left part of Mello's face, he was never going to not hate him.

The plan wasn't that smooth. It was logical, for sure. He felt a burden so hard on his shoulders, getting heavier with every _tick_ from the clock on the wall, it could break his spine. The last time he felt like crying was a long tim ago, but as much as he hated to admit it, he didn't recall the feeling strange.

"Mello?"

Matt was at the door, staring at him. His green eyes were framed with dark circles, but he didn't sound tired. Mello raised his head and his neck hurt, he eyed the other with fondness but he couldn't force a smile. He knew he didn't need to. The loose hanging, sickly yellow lamp had set Matt's slightly auburn hair on fire, it hurt his eyes. Matt dragged his feet and sat next to his lover's side.

They didn't look at each other except stolen glances. Matt lit up a cigarette.

"Are you scared?" He asked.

Mello wasn't scared of death, not really. But it hurt too much to have to leave right after his first love had found him again. He didn't want to leave him again. He was shocked to see Matt at Los Angeles, after he had left Wammy's with such rage and burning arrogance that he couldn't even think of what he had left behind. But Matt was a genius, even if he pulled the indifferent card. He was the 3rd. Even if it weren't for Mello, he would come anyway.

But it was at least partly for Mello. That was crystal clear after he had attacked him with a kiss right after he greeted him - a spitted out _Mihael_ - so aggressive it felt like a fight, but it was his little revenge. He hadn't minded. He had kissed him back softly, and had whimpered, as an apology.

_Kira will kill me_, he wanted to say. Instead, he shrugged.

Matt handed his cigarette to Mello and watched him slightly cough on it with a little smirk on his face. "You were never like that before. You've done some rather fucked up shit... You were kind of the head of the Mafia, fuck's sake." He took his cigarette back, inhaled it to the last bit and put it out on the wooden table, making the other frown. Mello just examined his face, the freckles on his nose and his cheeks and how they felt the first time he pecked on them when they were eleven.

Matt catched his reddened blue eyes, combed a strand of hair out of his face - revealing the burned flesh. _You're better than Near_, he had said when he had got him out of the burning building and was cleaning his wounds. _He wouldn't have done that. L would've respected that.___

Mello had never felt so sick before. And his boyfriend's arm sneaking around his waist and his warm breath on his ear surprisingly didn't seem to help it.

"We'll make it." He kissed his ear. "We'll deal with this case, hunt Kira down, and that will be the end of it, I promise." He kissed his neck. "This isn't you. Come on Mello."

It was the last string, he threw himself in Matt's arms. Matt kissed him again, lazily biting on his bottom lip,. The taste of the last cigarette they shared shadowed the taste of bread and salty olives, it was the best snack they currently had at that shitty apartment in Japan. They had been here and there for so long, because that wasapparently what they were supposed to do. _You're my home,_ Mello wanted to say. Matt wanted to get away for a while after the case, to recharge and feel human again, he wanted to go to California with his _blondie_. He could be so lovely sometimes.

The redhead groped his ass and went deeper with his tongue, Mello let out a groan. The other smiled into it, struggling to breathe, but their mouths were so hot and so wet it felt like air. Mello's body burned. He voluntarily mistaked it for lust. He pushed Matt down on the couch and climbed on him, forcing him off of his ugly black t shirt. Matt grinned and helped him out of his leather vest, and they collided again.

"This might be our last night here." Matt chuckled, grinding his crotch to Mello's to be bit of a tease. "Make it count."

Mello was already hard. He wanted to pull his hair and grope him and fuck him into the couch, so hard the whole Japan would hear, but it could be their last night. He almost flinched with a sharp sudden headache. He ran his hands on Matt's chest, licking his neck and tracing down with sloppy kisses, sucking on his nipple and twitching the other with his hand. With a gasp followed by a moan earned from him, it almost felt right, his bulge was too painful not to notice under his own. But he got on his elbows and frowned again.

"I don't like to see you that burned out." He muttered. "You're off the case after tomorrow, okay? You're going to Cali."

Matt rolled his eyes. "Don't be silly, I'm here until we finish this. Why would I go without you?" It was obvious it was the last thing he cared about. He was getting tired, he was definitely horny, and he wanted Mello to fuck him - simple logic. His eyes were losing shine. He was losing patience.

So he went down again to suck and nibble on his collarbone, he wanted him as well, he wanted to dry hump just to see him needy, but he scrunched his face as an ugly voice escaped his throat.

He started to cry. He sobbed on his elbows, to not to get Matt's chest with his tears dripping down his nose.

"Hey..." Matt put his hand on his cheek, sounding confused, and forced Mello to look at him. Mello was an ugly crier, his face would get red and swollen and with the dead flesh on his face, he wasn't surprised Matt's eyes were a cemetery now. He blamed himself, as if he had killed a flower, as if he had burned a garden down, but it wasn't fair. He wouldn't try to collect himself, because there was no point now.

"I love you." He blurted out, voice broken. "I love you, Mail."

Matt looked confused. He sat up. Mello had to, too. And Matt hugged him so tight he could suffocate him. His _blondie_ was trying to calm on his shoulder now, clawing at his back and he gave him countless kisses on his head._ Don't you hear the bells, Mail?_ Mello wanted to say. But Matt was the 3rd. Of course he knew. His unspoken words filled the air, he didn't know how they could still breathe. It was uncomfortable, their bodies confused and minds disturbed, with a few hours left. There was something rather tragic about two brilliant boys growing up to be martyrs in a battle against a self proclaimed God.

The redhead's arms loosened around him and they parted, Mello had at least stopped sobbing, but he was still a trainwreck. Matt's eyes were red. His face was tear stained. His lips were swollen. He was looking at his fallen angel. Soon the sky would turn pink and it would be the last time he'd say an angel's name before it'd be written on a paper. He knew.

"Mihael, I love you too."

Mello closed his eyes.


End file.
